Category: Hope

lights on the pilings

Saturday morning, and the pilings of the pier are in someone’s headlights, as water conditions are checked.  Different boats, with lights on, are on the early waters. 

A verse from the Psalms shines into my soul:

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

Psalm 119: 105 (KJV)

* * *
rain-washed air
and summer
at its finest
enough to be still
say thank you

Rose courtesy of

My Swedish Nanna

When my Swedish Nanna came to America a long time ago, she knew she would not see her mother again.  I can only imagine.  Poppa Ernie worked on the railroad here, and then one of his sons, and, last I heard, one of my cousins.  My father became a history teacher.  One year, my mother said to him, “If you really want to make your mother happy, take her back to Sweden for a visit.”  Dad followed her advice that summer; and after he retired, he and Mom went to Sweden also. 

seeing the full moon
through evergreen branches

Photo of daylilies by Karl.

glass dish

In my little study, I have a bookcase refinished by my father, decades ago.  One shelf is for the poetry journals that include my work, since I began sending poems out for review in the late 1980s.  The other shelf is for current poetry journals, books I’m reading, and books I wish to keep close by (whether I reread them or not any time soon).

On the shelf, I have a glass dish that my mother gave to me.   It is solid and has a glass cover.  The dish holds cards, from many years.  Some of these cards are handmade.  They hold words that hold me in prayer and encouragement.  Sometimes I use them as bookmarks.

glass dish
from grandmother
to mother
to me
still life

Poem published in Things with Wings & other poems,
edited by Aubrie Cox (free download).

Image courtesy of

A Star For A Time

Monday morning.  Strong winds today.  The evergreen branches are swaying widely.

Here by Lake Michigan in Oostburg, one day in spring may be cold, with winds from the north; and another day we might feel warmth from a south or west wind.

Some years it doesn’t really warm up until after the days are already getting longer again.  People can sometimes get frantic, trying to fit as much summer as they can into 6 weeks.   Schedules adapt to this in all kinds of ways.  Churches and libraries may change their routines.  How wonderful for so many children and families to create another set of memories!  I also think it’s good for people to get some rest and a change of pace.  If I could live my youth over– to age 40, for example–I would say no more and get more rest along the way.

One great thing about being a writer is that a grey day is one of the best days for books and blogs.  I try to remember to express gratitude for the power staying on, when we have storms.

I’m also musing about how endings become new beginnings, by God’s grace.  Snowdrops end, and primroses begin.  Our Christmas cactus bloomed for weeks, and the last bloom was for Easter.  Now there is one last bloom on the Easter lily.  The forsythia is beginning to change from yellow to green, as the lilacs are budding.  How blessed we are.

Here’s a haiku from a past summer.

each flower
a star for a time

And then the cycle repeats,
each phase with its own beauty,
and the lily flowers again…

Hope you have a blessed day!


Image courtesy of Dover Publications.
From Art Nouveau Flowers and Floral Ornament.